


Helluva A Feeling

by MontagueBitch (porcia_catonis)



Series: The Fulvia Chronicles [2]
Category: Classical Greece and Rome History & Literature RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Political Shenanigans, Power Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 00:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10347960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcia_catonis/pseuds/MontagueBitch
Summary: Set in 59 BCE, Fulvia never thought Clodius would pull the patrician-pleb switch off.  She thinks she likes being wrong, however, she likes the look of victory in his eyes.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allcinders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allcinders/gifts).



> I will write all the Fulvia/Clodius fics tbh. Inspiration credit goes to Evi, for her wonderful Clodius characterisation, which I don't exactly claim to mimic, but whom I definitely pay homage to.

It is not Claudius's custom to come home late.  If they must be parted, and it's rare that they are, the sun is barely down before is home to his waiting wife, regaling whatever has happened throughout the day, if she has not heard already.  The barrier between his, hers, and theirs has become such a blur, that to draw a line at all is but an act, done only in name, and they both know it.  

And she knows why he is late this night; she's quite certain he'll come back to her any moment by now, from taking dinner at his own expense with young Fonteius, that he'll tell her it's back to the drawing board for office yet.  She's sure she'll laugh, shake her head, and tell him she can't imagine being a pleb has ever made anyone's life much of anything worth deeming improved.  Rich enough, it's true, perks are to be had.  Despite that, she has, thanks to this union, been both. With deepest affection, she's certain that her darling is mad thinking he can pull it off.

_"But Fonteius is so young! Younger than you even.  Does he even wear a man's toga?"  That was this morning, the lady shaking her head._

_"What little confidence you have, you wound me,"  Clodius had been languid, not a hair out of place or a brow even raised.  With a wave of his hand, confidence itself is wafted across the table.  "You're not naive, I think we both know that," a little smirk spread across his face.  "I know the law; I know what I'm doing."  With that, he had called for a slave to bring him his cloak, and he'd been off._

He had left his wife baffled, yet haughty still that this enterprise wouldn't come to much.  She is mending a tunic when she hears the doors parting; she's glad of it.  It's a rare thing, that Fulvia would be bored enough to dabble in something to domestic.  If only her best company weren't all seemingly otherwise engaged that night, then she might have had something to pass the time left for waiting.  She's eager as a child, keen for jesting gossip as Clodius enters.  

His step has a spring to it, so light it barely makes a sound, but carrying him downs.  It's with a whirl the cloak comes off, and with a congenial lilt, he says to the slave, "Do hang this for me, won't you?"

Fulvia is biting her lip to keep the grin at bay, remain the coy woman she likes to think herself.  "Is Claudius in a merry mood?"  She asks, her face a mocked mask of cluelessness.  Oh, her clever heart of hearts, he must have not only got Fonteius's consent, but made it work, too.  She crosses the room, and needing no further cue, he wraps his arms about her waist, and greets her with a kiss.  

"Ah, not at all," he corrects, with a dramatic shake of your head.   _"Claudius_ , I'm afraid, doesn't feel much of anything."

"No?  I find that hard to believe."  She is laughing.  As plain as it is that a trap is set, for some joke wherein the crux is known only to him, she cannot beat him to the chase, and shall be caught up in the facts of it all.  "You've never been the most gifted liar, my sweet.  You make up for it, but even I can't flatter you with that."

"Mmm, you miss my point."  His grin, feline and gleaming, would say that he very much intended for her to.  "Fulvia, tell me, does he that doesn't exist feel anything?"

"Not usually, no."

Clodius spins her, arms still secure around her torso.  "Ah, then you know why Claudius feels nothing."  He releases her, though the dance they seem caught in remains, still circling her.  "There is no Claudius left."

She had, by his humor, already banished all doubt despite the odds, that the adoption had been incomplete.  In her best imitation of the type of daughter her mother had wanted, she draws a hand over her heart, lets out a gasp of shock.  "We're not Fonteii now, are we?"  She wears a mask of girlish shock, already laughing at her own counterfeit by the time the words are out.

"Not at all.  That's the genius of it, actually.  There's only custom that would have me take Fonteiius's name, you know.  Funny, what the laws _actually say._ "

"But don't they demand a change at least?"  Her brows knit, and husband--whatever husband be called--nods.  "A change, not a copy of the father."  It dawns as she speaks.  "Oh, but what's the name now then?"  She can't quite grasp what.  

" _Clodius._   I daresay it's better than the original, don't you think?  Shorter.  More in style.  And I'll be the first Publius _Clodius_ Pulcher.  It rather suits.  Now I don't have to share the name anymore.  Well, but for our son, but he's too young to remember ever hearing the word 'Claudius.'"  A shrug.

"Oh, _you_."  She is through with astonishment, only delight now.  "You wicked genius, you."

"Complimentary from the one doubting me this morning."

"You must now it sounded mad.  It's completely unprecedented you know, and--well, I suppose so are you."  She leans against the wall, still drinking it all in.  "I suppose I don't mind being wrong, you know."

"Now _you_ sound mad.  Have you taken ill while I was out?" It's Clodius's turn to feign surprise.  

"In this case I don't," she tosses back.  "Besides.  You're right.  I like the name.  I think it sounds positively tribunal."

The catlike grin is back.  "I couldn't agree more."


End file.
